


No Strings on Me

by LatinDragon



Category: Sean McLoughlin - Fandom, jacksepticeye, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Anti - Freeform, Anti wants to play a game, Chase's kids - Freeform, Dr. Schneeplestein - Freeform, Gen, Horror, JJ - Freeform, Jack is missing, Jackieboy Man - Freeform, Jacksepticeye egos, Jameson Jackson - Freeform, Marvin - Freeform, Marvin the Magnificent - Freeform, Mentions of Suicide Attempt, OC is Non-Binary, Platonic Relationships, Puppets, References to Abuse, References to Depression, Schneep - Freeform, Sean McLoughlin - Freeform, antisepticeye, bad things happening, chase brody - Freeform, glitch bitch, jacksepticeye - Freeform, mentions of depression, mentions of self doubt, oc has amnesia, original character backstories, someone save him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 07:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24347017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LatinDragon/pseuds/LatinDragon
Summary: Jack’s videos have been strange lately. He’s been colder, angrier, and more violent when he plays video games. Something is off, and the fandom is buzzing with theories and speculation, assuming that another egopacalypse is coming. One night, while watching what they assume is another Antisepticeye video, our protagonist is shocked when Anti reaches out of the screen and pulls them inside. They find themselves in a theater, where they learn that they are in just one part of Jack’s mind. They can’t remember certain important things such as their own name or Jack’s real name, and they don’t know why they are here or why Anti keeps taunting them.Our protagonist eventually meets Marvin the Magnificent, who warns them that things aren’t well in the world he and the other egos live in. Anti has taken over Jack’s body, and the real Jack is trapped somewhere deep within his own mind. It is evident that the protag has been brought here to try and help him, though they aren’t sure why. It is up to them to gather the things they need to help Jack regain his strength so that he can fight back, including his real name.
Relationships: Sean McLoughlin/Evelien Smolders
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	1. Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out my fic. This is the first one I've written about the egos. I hope you enjoy it!

It had been a long day, and I was exhausted. It was a day full of stress and annoying people, but it was finally over. After dinner, I popped myself a bowl of popcorn and got cozy in my bed, then took up my laptop and earbuds and settled down for a long YouTube binge-watching session.

I had fallen behind on all of the content from my favorite YouTubers since I was so busy, but I began by pulling up the latest videos from my favorite: Jacksepticeye. There were a lot of videos I hadn’t seen yet, and I was the most interested in his most recent videos. All of the fan blogs on Tumblr had been buzzing with theories and excitement because Jack’s videos had been strange recently. There were occasional glitches in the footage and Jack spoke and acted differently. He was cold, he spoke menacingly, saying mean things and mocking the audience, saying things like, “He can’t see you anymore,” at the end of his videos. Naturally, the fans thought an egopocalypse was afoot, and I was as excited to see some new ego content as anyone else. 

The videos I watched were all as everyone described: eerie, glitchy, with Anti making some appearances here and there whenever Jack acted weird or complained about his eyes twitching. What I didn’t expect was how cold and mean Jack was. He always would tease his viewers in his “Meme Time” and “Funniest Home Videos” series’, but it was always playful and never serious. For the first time, he didn’t react to any of the content. He’d watch a funny video or look at a meme, but he wouldn’t laugh. He barely cracked a smile at the ones that made fun of him, but any that made fun of Anti would make him angry and he’d start belittling the viewers. It didn’t seem normal. I knew that Jack probably had some plan and was trying to set something up with that behavior, considering that the glitches were happening more frequently as I went along and watched more videos, but it still was different. There were some things that he said that made me feel uneasy and hurt, but I tried not to take it too seriously. This was Jack, after all. 

I had been subscribed to his channel for years, ever since his  _ Undertale  _ playthrough. I liked that game a lot and his playthrough was my favorite, so I explored the rest of his content and found a community in his fanbase that I loved and wanted to be a part of. The main thing I stayed for was Jack, though, because he had a funny way of always uploading a video that was exactly what I needed. Whenever I felt down, he’d be there with a message of encouragement. Whenever I was stressed, he’d always be good for a laugh to release tension. Whenever I was scared, the cheerful optimism in his voice and messages would always comfort me. It was no wonder that there were so many people in the fanbase that suffered from anxiety or depression who would use his videos to cope and cheer themselves up. 

I even remember waking from a nightmare in the middle of the night when I had left a playlist running, and the video on at the time was him making a pizza with playdough. Even though he was just talking and being goofy, hearing something familiar was enough to calm me down so I could go back to sleep. I woke up again early that morning to him screaming, “Ding, ding, ding! Top of morning!” at the beginning of a  _ Minecraft  _ video, and I laughed to myself and said, “He even makes sure I don’t oversleep.

I felt like I had known him for years, even though we never met in person. I believed I knew a lot about him, and that if we met in person we could become friends. I was attached to this internet personality that had become a part of my everyday life and always made it a little brighter. That was why this new content made me feel uncomfortable. 

I was beginning to get drowsy at around 2 o’clock in the morning. The day’s video was ending, and I was about to wind down for the night and sleep late into the next morning. I started to close the browser when I got another notification on my subscription page. Jack had just uploaded another video. It was weird. I wondered if something bad happened. The thumbnail was just him looking blankly at the camera with no text or effects, and the title was, “What’s a King without His Crown?” 

I suddenly found new energy and wasn’t tired anymore. The skin on the back of my neck prickled, and my palms started sweating. Something was wrong. I don’t know how I knew that, I just did. It seemed like an ordinary video, but the timing was strange. The timestamp was a minute and 25 seconds. I told myself that it might have been an automatic upload that got the time wrong, but I still hesitated to play the video. 

I clicked on it. 

The video loaded. 

Jack was sitting at his desk, staring at the camera, and he said nothing for ten seconds. There was a glitch, and he grinned. 

“Hello,” he said. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Since you’ve seen me. I’ve been very busy, and I guess you all have been, too. Busy watching. That’s all you do, isn’t it? Watch. You knew I was coming. You all did. But none of you did anything. You could have helped him. You could have stopped me, but all you did was watch to see what happened next. Some of you even rooted for my return. Isn’t that funny? Well, I’m back, and this time things are going to be different.”

He had said those things before. I thought,  _ this is it. This is what everyone was waiting for.  _

Jack giggled wickedly, and I leaned forward. “You don’t get to watch, this time. We’re going to switch roles, now. This time,  _ you  _ play the games, and  _ I  _ watch. And I hope to get a brand new puppet when it’s all over. It’s going to be so much fun.”

I wondered if this meant he was doing a choose-your-own-adventure style of video series this time, like Markiplier did. I held my breath. 

There was a flash, and Jack reappeared, this time with the green, glitchy filter and a cut across his throat. Anti. I felt my shoulders tense. He laughed and reached toward the camera, just like in his first video.

His hand reached closer to the camera, then out of my screen. I yelped and shoved my laptop away from me and watched in horror as Anti crawled out of my laptop and onto my bed like a scene from  _ The Ring _ . His eyes gleamed with madness. I scrambled, kicking my blankets off, reaching for something on my bedside table to use as a weapon. I grabbed a book and threw it at him, and he batted it out of the air and laughed. I jumped out of bed and made for the door, but Anti grabbed hold of my shirt collar and yanked. I fell backward and he drug me across the bed, toward the laptop. He disappeared into the screen. My face pressed against it, I tried to push away, then the screen gave way and I fell inside. 

It was dark, and I could hear Anti’s voice surrounding me as he laughed and sang a strange song. I was falling. I couldn’t stop falling.


	2. How Did We Get Here?

My feet touched the ground and I opened my eyes. I was standing on a stage looking out over a huge, empty auditorium. The house lights were dimmed, and two spotlights were shining on me from the left and right. I glanced around, but no one else was there. Anti was even gone. I turned and saw a projection screen glowing with the words “How Did We Get Here?” in green, dripping, bubble text. Ironic.

I waited for something to happen. I was afraid to move, but the longer I stood still, the more anxious I became. The silence was deafening. One of the curtains to the left was open slightly, so I decided to go back there to see what I could find. I padded offstage, careful not to step on any wires or equipment in my bare feet. Directly behind the curtain was a series of pullies for the curtains and set pieces to fly in and out, and a shelf stocked with tape in different colors and other tools. I searched around for a flashlight and found none. There was a plastic cup full of pencils and miscellaneous tools, including a big screwdriver with a dark blue handle. I picked it up and it was heavy in my hand. “It’s better than nothing,” I whispered, and I felt like I might as well have been shouting into a megaphone, it was so quiet in there. I made my way down the backstage area and found a door at then end that opened to an even darker hallway. I wondered if I could find an emergency exit somewhere, and went inside.

It was dark and I wished for my phone to use as a flashlight if nothing else. I hated how quiet it was; it made every sound I made seem so much louder. “A theater should never be this quiet,” I whispered, and even my small, timid voice felt too loud. I gripped the screwdriver tight in my hand, crossed my arms and tiptoed through the hallway, straining to see in the dark, and I found my way to some of the dressing rooms. I poked my head in one of the doorways, saw nothing but a lot of big, frilly costumes hanging on a rack, and kept going.

The hallway seemed endless, and it branched off into other hallways, but I kept going straight to avoid getting lost. After a while, I began to doubt myself. The hallway seemed to go on and on without any end in sight, just doors to dressing rooms and storage closets and other hallways. I thought, “Surely this place isn’t _that_ big,” but I stood corrected. I hugged myself and steadied my breathing as I continued walking, slowly and quietly. I could feel my pulse in my throat and my mouth was dry, but I forced myself to keep walking.

I banged my head against a low-hanging bar or pipe and cursed as I grabbed my stinging brow. I reached out to touch whatever I hit my head on, but I couldn’t find it. I reached both hands out to grope the dark for any obstacles when I continued walking, and wondered if I should go back to the stage, jump down into the auditorium, and leave through there. I nodded to myself and promptly turned around to head back the way I came.

Then something soft brushed against my bare foot. I yelped and backed into one of the walls. I stood still, waited, listened, but still couldn’t see or hear anything. I passed the screwdriver to my left hand and kept it on the wall as I took a few more cautious steps, running my fingers over the wall, and I reached out with my right hand to feel for anything else.

I found something else. Something alive. My right hand touched something cold and wet, like a fish. I froze in my tracks. It moved as it breathed and made a deep, gurgling sound. I jerked my hand away and slowly backed up, but the thing grabbed my arm and pulled me toward it. It gripped my wrist tightly and gargled louder. I thrashed at it with the screwdriver, and the metal sank deep into its…flesh? I couldn’t pull it back out. The thing screeched and let go of me, and I turned and ran away, bumping and tripping over equipment. I reached out and grabbed anything I ran into and threw it down behind me, hoping I could slow the thing down. I could hear its footsteps, pounding after me. It was gargling, and I could sometimes make out words like, “hungry” and “come back.”

I found a dressing room and charged into it, threw the door shut behind me, and locked it. The thing started banging on the door, and each slow thud rattled it. I backed away and hoped those hinges were stronger than the looked, when I stepped on something soft again. The soft thing darted out from under me, then someone screamed behind me. I screamed too, then ran for the door. I felt around the wall, flipped the light switch, and turned to face what was in the dressing room with me.

It was Jack. Or, it looked like Jack, except his hair was green again, he was wearing a red cape, and he fumbled with a white cat mask. He clutched at his chest a stared at me with wide eyes.

Neither of us moved. The thudding at the door continued, and my shoulders were tense.

“Jack?” I asked, and my voice came out as a scared whimper. His brow creased, and I tried, “Jacksepticeye?”

“What? No,” he heaved, and he put his mask back on, resting it on his forehead. I saw the symbols drawn on the mask and it occurred to me.

“ _Marvin_ ,” I said. “Marvin the Magnificent. The magician.”

He straightened up and tugged on his shirt to straighten it. “I know who _I_ am, who are _you_?” he said.

“I’m…” I trailed off. I felt it, it was right there, like a distant memory I couldn’t quite recall. I opened my mouth like I was trying to form the shape of my name, but I couldn’t get it to work.

Marvin raised an eyebrow. “Well?” he said.

“I don’t… remember.”

“Don’t remember? What do you mean you don’t remember your own name?”

“I don’t know, I… Well, to be honest, I don’t understand anything that’s happening right now. I was just in my bed, watching videos, and suddenly Anti reached out of my screen and pulled my inside, and—” I stopped and snapped my fingers. “That’s it! I fell asleep, right? I was in my bed, I was tired, and I was about to go to sleep anyway, and nothing that happened afterwards made any _sense_. I’m _dreaming_.”

Marvin was watching me with a concerned expression that whole time I spoke, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “Dear God…”

“So everything’s okay. I always wake up when I realize I’m dreaming.”

I shut my eyes, waited a moment, and opened them, but I was still in the dressing room. Marvin was watching me with crossed arms. “Still dreaming?” he asked.

“Well I… I’m probably gonna wake up any time now.”

Marvin sighed and side-glanced the door. “Kid, whoever you are, do you mind waking up after we get out of here? The thing that’s out there really wants in, and I don’t wanna be here when it breaks down that door.”

I jumped when the creature banged on the door again, and I gripped my hands together. “Uh, sure. How do we do that?”

Marvin glanced around the room, paced in a few circles, and groaned. “Okay, okay, I’ve got an idea, but I don’t like it.”

“What?” I said.

“I’m gonna cast a spell, and you’re going to open the door just a little so I can slip out. I’ll distract that thing so you can get out. Find your way to the men’s dressing room off stage right and hide. I’ll meet you there.”

Before I could say anything, Marvin slid the mask down over his face, took a deep breath, and he shrank down. In a small cloud of dust and fur, I blinked as he emerged as a small, white cat with the symbols of the four card suits on his forehead. He blinked his bright blue eyes at me and meowed loudly, like he was urging me to get moving. I went to the door and he followed and positioned himself at the opening. I listened to the creature outside thudding heavily against the door, groaning lowly each time it hit it. I clicked the lock open, waited until the creature pulled away, then pulled the door open a little bit, and Marvin darted out the door in a white flash. The creature gurgled and stomped after him.

I paused and listened. The creature moved down the hall, and then there was silence. I slowly pulled open the door a bit more and peeked outside. Nothing was there. I opened the door all the way and let the dressing room light flood into the hallway. I peered both ways down the hallway, still saw nothing but equipment, props, and set pieces. I took a deep breath and quickly padded down the hall in the opposite direction that Marvin and the creature went.

I would have given my left arm for a flashlight if someone had offered it. It felt colder in that hallway, and I had no clue if I was headed toward the stage again. The dark consumed me, but I didn’t dare reach out again.

“̵͚̑D̸͔̔͋i̶͇͔̒ḏ̴͂ ̶̩̞̃ÿ̷̛̩͕́o̶̓̚͜ṳ̷̰͝ ̷͔̳̿m̶̫͋̕a̴̮̤̽̂k̴̡̪̆ȅ̶͖̖ ̷̫̋͜͝a̶̲͚̓ ̸̱̋n̵̘̆͗e̴͇̊w̵̳̒̕ ̸̮̈́̎f̵̼͛͝r̶̖̗i̶̥̟͛͆e̶̬͊̿ṇ̶̳̾ḍ̴̇?̶̜̠͐͠”̴͕̀ͅ

A chill ran up my spine and clapped my hands over my mouth before I could gasp and give myself away.

“̷D̸o̷n̴’̷t̷ ̵b̸o̷t̶h̸e̷r̴.̶ ̶I̵ ̷c̸a̵n̸ ̴s̶e̷e̶ ̴y̴o̴u̴.̶”̸

The voice was even worse in person than on video. It was harsh, like a fork scratching a plate or nails on a chalkboard. It made my body tense. I held my breath.

“̄͐͐̐Ḯ̌̚ ̾̾d̅̍o͆̀n͐͂’̛̇́͗t̐̈́͌ ̛̃k̀̍͗n͗̾̐̑̚o͑̌ẃ̑̎͞͝ ̛̒w̒̉h̛͆͞͝y̓ ͋̂̊̑̏h̓͐̚e̽̐̇̅ ̓͗̌̚ẁa͑̓͛n̑̅̀͠t̊ed̈̇̽͛͆ ͊̓̐̈̏ẙo̿ủ.̑̅̽ I͆͒͠ ̍̋̉͘d̐͝o̊̂̊n̛̈̈’͑̓͘t ̋͘se̅͂͒̇̓e̿͋͑͝͡ ͘a͐̃̕͠n̂͂y͗̑thi͋̆͝͠n̂̿g͐̕͠ ̓͐s̆p̀̈́͗e̛̔͋̅c͐ĭ͑̄ă͛̈͆l̊͗̏̕ ̃͛ab̄̊͌oư͛̑ť͗̉̐ ͐̾̌̊y̾̏o̾̾̈́u̔̾̾.͂̆̂ ̿͛̒͒Ẇh͐á͂̕t̏̄̊ē͒v̾͑̚e͝ȓ,̽̎͝ ̛̒̂i͆̓̿t̆́̃͞ ̏̀s͠h̓őu͊̋l̓͊̔̍d̂̓̆ ̊̋̌b́̄̀ė̓̂͡ ͌̇͘ē̃͛̆nt̾́̓é̋̓r͒t͐̌̑͡a̅in͝i͋n̔̅ğ̈́̿̒,̋ e͆̑̓i̕͝t̃̑̓͘͞h̿̀̕̕e͛r̊̂́͞ ̓̓̾̕w̄å̄̃͝ỳ̓̆͞.̈̋͠͞”͠

I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. I felt hot breath on the back of my right ear as Anti whispered:

**“̜͖͡I̢̳̬͖͔̬̦̹͑̋̈̍̓͘͡’̢̧̢̹̲͇͕̤̝̗̪̰̮͕̭͎̝͍̬̗̥̭͗̋́̓̀͋̓̿͐͆̓͐̃̽̽͗͒̐͐͋͐͘͘͢͠ͅd̨͔̼̗͍̘̳͗́̊̏̽̈͗ ̧̨̺̱͚̬̫͔̻̝̹̺̯̻̌̋̄̊̈́̔͒̊͋͐͗͗͑͑̚͟͟ͅr̙͐ṳ̧̣̼̻͓̳̦͓̬͙͉̤̪͇̮̦͆̆̃̉͑̐͂͑̏͗̂̆̄̕̕͠͠n͍͖̭͈̠̓̆̿̎̂̔͟ ̡̡͓̼̙̪͔̗͍̼͔̱͍̻̾͂̌͑̓̓̐͛̿̐̌͆̏͂͂͌͢͟ͅi̡̡̤̰͓̰̰͕̰̦̞̬͉̗̺̝̽͑̐͊͌̎̅̓̎̐̑̄̇̈́͊̀͜͢͝͡f̧̰̦͓̩̼̤̝̦͙̲̥̺̩̞͇͕͔͇͉͖͂̒̓̿̆͌̉̑̈́̐̏̋͋̈́͂͊͌͘͡͝͝͝ͅ ̢̢̟̘̟̖͓̻̘̦̳̭̟̙̞̲͓͇̫̟̩͈̠̬̑͌̾͐͑̄̊̊͆̔̐̀͂̅̆̋͛̎̋̈́̊̾͋͋I̡̧̛̦̎͑ ̳̠̏̌we̝͇̖̲͋̎̑̕r̡̰̙͕͇̹̞̖̞̻̙͔̠͈̆͋̔̈́̃͒̎̌͂̾̄͊͞͝͠ͅè̠̊͢ ̡̨̨̦̳̬̲̫̯̞͈̦̮̰̳͈͇͉͐̀̔̐̽̇̆̅̍̆́̌͋̃͘̕̕͘ͅỹ̘̟̖͈̻̻̄̌͒̾͜͝͞͝ͅo͍̗̙̻̞̬͙̓̈̐͑̓̽̕͜ú̧̻͍̠̝̭̳̥̪͎̦̰̩͓̗̔̆̈̋̽̌̽̔̈́̏̋̍͛͝.̨̧̱̘̠̏̋̍̚͝”̢̘̱̫̪͍̮̍̇̑̿͛̇͆͟͝**

I wanted to scream.

There were footsteps approaching from behind me. Anti giggled. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I broke into a run, and no matter which turn I took down the long, endless hallways, Anti was always there, singing, “Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run,” right above my head.

The floor started to shake violently, like there was an earthquake. Wind was blowing around me. My chest heaved and I continued pumping my legs faster and faster. _Where is that wind coming from?_ I turned down another hallway and the wind was blowing in my face. Anti was cackling now. The monsters were coming. Anti’s laugh was echoing in my ears. I ran into the wind, my bare feet hitting the floor hard with each bound. The room was shaking so bad I thought the building would be torn in half. I was in complete darkness, and I gave all my trust to the wind. _Why won’t I wake up? This has to be a bad dream._

The wind was coming from somewhere. I knew it. I had to go towards it. In the distance, I thought I saw a light, but I couldn’t tell if it was really there or if my eyes were just that desperate to see something. But no. Ahead of me, a curtain was billowing in the wind, and light was coming through it. I continued running a reached for it. It was there. Ten feet… five feet… three feet, and then I grasped the thick, dusty curtains in my hands. As soon as my fingers touched the fabric, an image flashed in my mind that made me stumble. I saw Jack sitting in an office chair, with his wrists and neck wrapped in tight, black wires. His head was hanging low. I think he was crying. When the image went away, I had shoved myself through the curtains and I was back on the stage.

With light, everything seemed to disappear. Anti, the wind, the earthquake, the monsters. I wondered if I had hallucinated all those things, or if it was all real. My entire body ached and trembled and my chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath. My heels were stinging from all of the hard impact, and I limped to the center of the stage, back where I was at the start. I wracked my brain to remember which way stage right was, and when I remembered I walked off the stage. Just as Marvin said, there was another dressing room on the other end of the wall behind the curtains. I tiptoed inside and shut the door before I turned on the light. Unlike the others I had been in, this dressing room was piled high with clothes and costume pieces. I air smelled dusty, like old powder and hairspray. I climbed over the piles of clothes in the floor and went to the corner of the room to hide behind a clothes wrack that was stuffed with articles of neon, sequined, and cobwebbed glory. I nestled behind the clothes and narrowly missed putting my fingers in a set mouse trap. I sat on the cold, tile floor, curled up in the fetal position, and prayed there weren’t any spiders in these costumes.

I waited for something else to happen. I tried to wake up. I chewed on my tongue, pinched the fleshy part of my arm, tried to will myself to dream about something else, I even said out loud, “If this is my dream, then I can do whatever I want. I can even fly!” and waited to see if I would magically levitate off the ground. But deep down, I knew all of that was no good. The pain in my body was too real. Even though I did have vivid dreams sometimes, my senses were never this keen in them. The solidity of the concrete wall against my back, the cold tile beneath my feet, the number of times I sneezed from the dust, it was all too real. I wasn’t dreaming.

Once I knew that, I had to consider what that meant. One, Antisepticeye and Marvin the Magnificent were real. I wondered if that meant the other egos were, too, like Dr. Schneeplestein or Chase Brody. Every bit of logic within me said that there was no way they could be real; they were fictional characters played by a guy on YouTube. It was like assuming Harry Potter was real after meeting Daniel Radcliff. But I threw logic out the window when I considered how I got to this place.

As much as I tried to ease my mind into accepting these things, it was all so insane that it made my mind boggle. And then I considered what Anti had just said to me.

_I don’t know why he wanted you._

I had no idea what that meant. Wasn’t _he_ the one who drug _me_ in here? All of this would have made more sense if I continued with the “It’s all a dream” assumption, but I decided to suspend my disbelief.

I heard the door open and I held my breath.

“Are you here?” someone whispered. It was Marvin. I released my breath and crawled out from my hiding spot. His hair was tousled, but other than that he seemed fine. He removed his mask and bowed theatrically as he said, “I’m back, and all in one piece. Except maybe for a whisker.” He ran his hand over his beard and eyed me. “Well, you look positively shaken up.”

My mouth was dry and gulped. “I have no idea what’s going on,” I said.

He nodded. “Well, you can relax for a minute. As long as we aren’t loud, they won’t find us in here.” He ran his fingers through his hair and frowned when he realized how messy it was, then he dusted off one of the few chairs that wasn’t full of clothes, sat down and looked in the mirror to fix his hair. “So, what exactly are you? You aren’t an ego, that’s for sure, but so far you don’t look like one of those things, either.”

“I’m not sure. I don’t even know how I got here, I—”

Marvin patted one of the seats next to him and I sat down.

“Alright, tell me all about it.” 


End file.
